


Biting Cold

by Aquiter



Category: Deus Ex (Video Games)
Genre: Adam is demanding, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Christmas Fluff, Feels, Francis likes it, M/M, Not Proofread we die as men, Oral Sex, Really bad jokes honestly, Sarif has plans, So does Adam, dumb dumb, hints of depression, holly or mistletoe, you'll understand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 10:35:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17181347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aquiter/pseuds/Aquiter
Summary: A blizzard rolls in as Francis checks up on his workmate, forcing him to stay the night. But a blackout, and Sarif's bad emergency backup (none), cause the apartment to become too cold for Francis to sleep in the couch with only a blanket, but seeking heat results in some unexpecting sleep talk. A gift for Christmas is the only thing Francis can use to save those words.





	Biting Cold

**Author's Note:**

> Ey, this is late for most of you, but I did finish this the day before xmas (23rd for me).
> 
> So, enjoy this very much not proof-read, as will always be the case, fic of feelings too deep to properly explain tbh.
> 
> (I'm still trying to figure out tags, I think I'm getting there.)

Francis walked into his office, the lights came on as he set down his cup of badly brewed coffee.

“Is it holly or mistletoe?”

Francis spun around in surprise, “Jensen!”

The augmented agent sat in a chair, beside the bike Francis had the habit to take inside during the winter, green and golden eyes focusing on the floor in front of him. Hunched forward with one hand rested across his lap. The other was posed in front of his mouth, white teeth biting gently on the thumb.

“What are you doing here?” Francis asked, slightly annoyed to have his so far calm morning ruined by the presence.

“Faridah asked me, and I said I would find out for her,” Jensen answered, his thumb getting a brief pause from the torture, “So, is it holly or mistletoe you put in the doorway?”

“It’s still mistletoe, the one with white berries, not red,” Francis hesitated, why was he answering this question? He mentally shrugged, “The one with red berries is holly, but mistletoe is still mistletoe, now get out before you can ruin my day further.”

“Thanks,” Jensen said and stood, swiftly leaving.

Francis gave the poor thumb Jensen had been biting one last glance, but no visible marks were left. How long had Jensen been sitting there? Minutes? Hours? Sighing, Francis sat down and warmed his hands on the cup. This morning was not one for arguing or banter, he was too frozen for it and the grey weather had him in a bad mood.

Jensen had been biting his thumb, not nail, why would he do that?

-:-

During lunch Francis met up with Faridah. It was rare for him to eat with someone, but he wasn’t the hermit people made him out to be. Sure, he was a workaholic, but not hermit.

“He asked you what?” Faridah looked at him confused.

“He asked if it was holly or mistletoe, why do you need to know?” Francis asked, equally confused.

“I don’t know why I need to know. I’m not that dumb,” Faridah laughed, “Why does _he_ need to know is what I want to know.”

Francis stopped mid-bite. Why _did_ he need to know?

-:-

Sarif had called, and Francis mentally cursed at the man for calling so late, he was just about to leave. He pulled his gloves off, helmet clutched under an arm as he made his way up.

“Good evening Pritchard, he’s waiting for you.” The little lady behind the reception announced as Francis stepped out of the elevator.

Francis only nodded as he approached the doorway and entered the office.

“Frank, sorry to call you in so late,” Sarif stood up from his unusual seated position behind the desk, “I saw you were about to leave and meant to call you up earlier.”

“What is it you need? A late errand Jensen can’t go on?” Francis asked, irritated but his mood gradually becoming better as Sarif looked at him hopefully.

“I do need _you_ to run an errand for me, it’s quick, won’t take more than the time it takes for you to get to Jensen’s apartment.”

“What?” Francis exclaimed. It was the last thing he wanted to do.

“I need you to check up on him, since his last mission he’s been acting strangely,” The older man moved to the window, “Just ask him if his augments are still okay, ask if he needs anything. Be a friend, Frank.”

Francis could hear the _‘I know the look you give him’_ in his mind. Sarif had been gently nudging Francis to establish a proper relationship with Jensen. Something outside of contacts and colleagues.

“You’re not saying our little star has been injured?” Francis was sarcastic, but the look in Sarif’s eyes said this was something serious. That this time it might be more than physical or augmented injuries, “I’ll be on my way, but I want compensation if this is just some joke.”

Sarif waved him goodbye in his reflection in the window.

The air when Francis rolled out on his bike was biting, he quickly pulled his visor down and was on his way. If he had to be some sort of psychologist for Jensen, he would also get paid for each session he had with Jensen.

The elevator doors opened and Francis stepped out, he looked around a bit. He had been in Jensen’s apartment before, he had been in every apartment Sarif employers lived in. Only for maintenance of each individual system, not for a visit to one of the residents.

Something was off, a white noise was echoing down the hallway. Francis looked towards Jensen’s door and noticed it was open.

What was Jensen up to this time? Francis thought as he, with subconsciously hurried steps, walked up to it.

“Jensen?” Francis called out, pushing the door open with a gloved hand, “Sarif is worried for his little pet.”

The white noise came from an open window. The agent was nowhere to be seen. Francis put down his bag and helmet, gloves stuffed neatly inside the latter, “Jensen?” He called again after receiving no answer.

He walked further inside, drawn to the open window. The sound of traffic and city life in the late evening captured his attention. The view was good, Francis mentally noted, “If he ever dies, I’d love to get this apartment.” He muttered.

“I think I _am_ , Pritchard.” Jensen answered, startling the other.

“Get in here, you- Just come here!” Francis gestured for Adam to get his ass moving back to safety, “I don’t do all that hacking and talking, just for you to fall to your death.”

Jensen looked at him sideways and moved from where he stood on a window panel to get in again, finally sitting down on the window frame and facing the hacker, “Why would Sarif send you?”

“He was worried, said you’ve been acting strangely. I also talked to Faridah and—”

“She didn’t ask, I know.” Jensen interrupted.

“Why did you ask?” Francis crossed his arms and looked Jensen in the eyes, but his stare was not met by green eyes, only shaded sockets.

“I don’t know, it doesn’t matter now to be honest,” Jensen stands and moves to the kitchen area, “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Do you have anything other than liquor?”

“I do drink water, Pritchard,” Jensen’s voice dropped a tone at Francis’ last name as he poured water into a glass and gave it to the other.

“Thank you,” Francis accepted the water and leaned lightly on the island counter, “So, what is troubling you enough that Sarif sends _me_ to investigate instead of talking to you?”

“I wonder…” Jensen says mysteriously.

“If I have to sign up as your emotional support, I better get paid for it in some way or another,” Francis jokes.

“How about a movie, for the first session?” The taller offer.

Francis stared into his glass. Did Jensen just agree that he needed him to be his emotional support?

“Excuse me?” Francis stands up straight. But Jensen’s slumped shoulders, sunken eyes, and tired voice hit Francis with the force of a rubber band to his ear; with stinging precision, “Are you _depressed_?”

“And if I am?” Jensen starts to angrily stomp away suddenly, “Just leave if all you have is snarky remarks today, I’m not in the mood.”

“No, Jensen, I didn’t mean it like that. Not this time,” Francis almost walks off with the glass in his hand, but has the mindset to leave it on the counter, “Don’t run away from your problems!” Francis jogs up to the augmented man.

“Oh, is it a problem now, too? Sorry for burdening you with the responsibility to solve it, go back to your office, fucking workaholic _hermit_.” Jensen spits in Francis’ face.

But the chief of cyber-security is, if anything, stubborn and puts a hand on Adam’s shoulder which is quickly swatted away with more force than necessary, “Really, I didn’t mean for you to take it that way, Adam. I’d like to accept the offer of a movie, despite the awkwardness that will be after this.”

Jensen looked at Francis, the black in his eyes seemed to fade. His shoulders released any sudden tension that had built up over the last minute.

But Francis could sense the hesitation in Jensen on the movie offer, “You’re not feeling well, let’s sit down and breathe for a moment.” Francis can recall the many times he had lashed out with anger when someone poked him in just the wrong places on the wrong day.

The two of them sat down on the couch, still too close to the large TV to be comfortable in Francis’ mind, and let the silence process the argument.

Jensen was the first to speak when he looked at Francis trying to secretly nurse his wrist, which was bruising, “Sorry for hitting you, Pritchard.”

“This is nothing, thanks for letting me keep my hand,” Francis joked, light hearted, but quickly regretted it when he saw Jensen look away and his shoulders drop another level. The aug shifted to move further away from Francis, as if he was scared of hurting him, “No, really, thanks for not drawing blood. You know how I am around it.”

“Vaguely, but I know you do not like it, yes.” Jensen agreed and shifted again.

“Well, this is a good start,” Francis continued, “Let me apologize for using completely wrong words, and for not taking you seriously, at the start. I do now.”

Jensen returned his eyes to look at the other’s eyes this time, for the first time since Francis arrived. His gaze softer now that he felt the other was taking him seriously.

“You should however know that Sarif has excellent psychologists, I visited one a few months after I was hired,” Francis thumbed at his wrist again, “You should visit one of them at least once. Not that I don’t want to help you, but they know their stuff.”

“Yeah, I will. I just need to understand…”

“Understand what?” Francis queried further.

“Well, we’ll get to that another time. What movie would you like to watch?” Jensen avoided the question and moved for the remote.

“Anything that doesn’t involve the fact that Christmas is happening this year as well,” Francis smiled, trying to keep it light, but Jensen’s relief told him something else entirely. Was that the reason for Jensen’s sudden depression?

So, they ended up watching Men In Coral 2 until Francis decided to look out the window, “It’s snowing Jensen.”

“That’s a blizzard building up, did you bring your bike inside?” Jensen asked, tone neutral as if it was nothing new.

“A blizzard? Why didn’t you tell me, I’ll never get home tonight!” The tech exclaimed and sunk into the couch slightly, “I’ll go bring my bike inside, don’t go sit on the window again, please.”

Jensen nodded and let Francis go without any questions.

As Francis put on his boots, he could see Jensen look his way repeatedly until he stood, and the head turning stopped, “Be right back.”

Francis hurried down, the snow must’ve been falling for some time because there was a layer of snow, at least 5 centimetres thick covering his bike. He swore as he dusted it off and lead the vehicle inside. He hoped he wouldn’t return to a note on it.

The few minutes he had been standing outside was enough to cover him in a great amount of snow, which melted the moment he entered the building again, drenching his clothing. He hadn’t cared to put on his jacket again, so his t-shirt was damp at best, but mostly wet when he walked through Jensen’s door again. For a second time, something he never thought would happen even once.

The apartment was darker, the TV shut off. Jensen was leaning on the wall by the door, “It’s getting late, I’m actually getting tired right now. You’re more than welcome to stay.”

It was less of a ‘do-you-want-to-stay’ invitation, and more a ‘you-don’t-really-have-a-choice-but-I’ll-say-it-as-if-you-do’ invitation.

“Thanks, I’ll take the couch and a new t-shirt if you don’t mind,” Francis said, his hands picking at the clinging t-shirt he was wearing.

The silence as Jensen got ready for bed was occasionally interrupted by the sound of augments hitting the edge of a doorframe, the sink, and finally the bed, which marked the OK for Francis to get ready. He’d been given a toothbrush and a white t-shirt.

When he was done, he considered saying goodnight to the other person, and it felt right to do it after Jensen had opened up somewhat to Francis, although unexpectedly. Francis called at the slightly shut door, “Good night, Jensen.”

From the bedroom a voice called back, “Good night, Pritchard.”

-:-

Francis woke up shivering, his body tensed up the moment his conscious mind registered the cold and his teeth began chattering. He pulled the blanket Jensen had provided closer, but it too was cold. He was normally fairly cold whenever, so the extra freezing air didn’t help.

Then the important question popped up: Why was it so damn cold?

Blue eyes darted around in the darkness and saw the window, covered in snow. Then the fact that the yellow light of the city was replaced by the natural light of snow.

Black out _and_ a blizzard. His luck was endless. Francis made an attempt at going back to sleep, thought about warm places, warm things, not cold. But his chattering teeth disrupted any success he had.

He would never get home in this weather, and he would never get any sleep in this cold.

Would it be too much to ask Jensen to scoot over and share the bed with him? Because at this point another blanket wouldn’t do much, Francis thought and sat up, wrapping the blanket tightly around himself as he stood and tip toed over to the bedroom door to peek inside.

Jensen’s green and golden eyes met his, to his surprise, “You would think Sarif had generators for these kinds of situations.”

“Y-yeah…” Francis agreed. Still in the doorway, his legs getting colder.

“Is it too cold for you?” Jensen begins, but ends it at that without any sarcastic punchline, “I don’t want my support to freeze to death in my home, wouldn’t look too good.”

Francis smiled at the notion of him being Jensen’s support, but his teeth quickly began chattering again.

Jensen scooted over to one side of the bed, and turned his back to the other, which Francis gladly crawled down into, messily throwing the blanket over both of them before pulling the covers up close to his chin.

The steady heat from Jensen’s augments was comforting, and as soon as Francis’ stopped thinking about the cold and focused on the warmth enveloping him, he fell asleep to the steady breathing of Jensen sleeping behind him.

-:-

Francis wakes up, again, but not feeling as if he’s about to freeze to death. He searches for something to tell him the time, but the black display beside the bed is useless.

“Blackout, remember, Mr. Snore?” Jensen’s voice gently comments.

Francis sniffles in response and turns to lay on his back, further turning his head to look at Jensen. A question hangs in the air, hung up by Jensen himself.

“Do you ever wake up sad, Francis?” Jensen used his first name, pointing out the seriousness in his odd question.

“Why would you wake up sad?” Francis asks.

“I was thinking, do I have the right to _want_ a family?” The tone of the question is dangerously sad, “I’ve taken from so many, yet these thoughts keep popping up in my head as if it’s something I can ask for.”

“You just need to find someone you like, then ask if they’d like to be with you,” As if it was that easy to have a family, but Francis knew Jensen wanted more than just a partner, or a family of friends.

“What if this person doesn’t think well of me?”

“Does the Sarif pet have a crush?”

“And if he does?”

Francis shuts up for a moment, then his mind goes back to the original question, “Are you sad now, Adam?”

The silence that follows allow Francis to hear the will keeping he tears at bay cracking, and by this point, laying in the same bed, with all these questions flying around like dragonflies, Francis has accepted his role as Adam’s emotional support.

He slips a hand under an augmented shoulder and pushes Adam to sit up, then follows and pulls the other into a hug. Hands almost clawed at his back, and he was glad the augments didn’t come with built in talons.

The tech could feel tears staining the t-shirt’s shoulder where Adam had rested the bridge of his nose, silently letting himself break down. Any sob that escaped Adam’s control was muffled by Francis’ shoulder.

And Francis let it happen, anything that would come at him now would have to back off, because he could deeply relate to what Adam was feeling.

The hands holding him tightly to Adam’s body, as tight as their position would allow, showed the starvation of touch Adam was feeling. Although he was well liked, Francis couldn’t see anyone offering to hug the agent. Or patting him on his back. Or cradling the back of his head as Francis moved one of his hands to do right now.

Fingers combed slowly through dark hair, trying to sate the starving man in front of him. The other hand was pressed hard against the back of Adam, and Francis could feel every breath the aug took. The muscles moving, spasming with every silent sob, shifting to get closer.

And the cold air suddenly felt hot around Francis, and he was sure it was not only Adam’s augments heating it up. Heating him up. It was nothing more than a hug to comfort Adam, but it felt like more. While it was more to Adam, Francis felt calm washing over him.

He closed his eyes and relaxed into the embrace, listened closely to the small noises Adam made as he tried to calm down. His hand on Adam’s back started to rub small circles, and the hand in the dark hair moved down to the neck and back up, gently, making sure Adam knew it was okay for him to take his time.

Sure enough, Francis didn’t want to rush this to an end. He knew Adam would need time, he wished someone had given him time when he needed it to let himself break down to be fixed again. But Francis had been left alone to pick himself up, and he knew the want and need for someone.

“Sorry,” Adam suddenly croaked, “Shit, this is weird.”

Francis couldn’t help but chuckle, “It is good, Adam. It is so not you, but it is good, whatever this is, it’s good.” Francis reassured multiple times, welcoming any attempt to stay like this. To his surprise, Adam’s heavier weight suddenly started falling back against the pillows.

They stayed in the embrace, against any odds of them ever hugging from the start, and fell asleep again.

But before Francis fell fully into darkness, Adam muttered words that would keep him awake in the coldest nights.

“I love you, Francis.”

-:-

The days passed by in the office. People left one after one, and Francis began talking to Faridah about how to spend their Christmas. Their families lived far away, so nobody had the time to go and meet them.

Except this year, of course.

“Actually, Pritchard, Sarif has blessed me with a miracle this year. He let me go see my family, trip paid for and vacation time,” Faridah said, bittersweet look in her eyes as she looked at Francis.

“I’m happy for you, Faridah, don’t look at me like that,” Francis said as they stepped into the elevator, “Just make sure to bring something back for me.”

Faridah smiled, weakly, knowing she was leaving Francis alone this year, “Well, maybe you can comfort yourself with knowing Jensen is also alone. Maybe you can hang.”

Francis let out a _hah_ and slapped his own thigh for emphasis. Then his mind reminded him of the warmth in that embrace. The flush of his cheeks as he fell asleep on those words. The countless nights he had been awake, trying to figure them out as if it was some enigma.

“You okay?” Faridah asked, snapping Francis out of his thoughts while pushing the ‘keep doors open’ button, “Is this not your floor, Francis?”

“Yes, it is, thank you,” Francis quickly got off in one large step, “Have a merry Christmas, don’t crash.”

The doors were closing as Faridah had the last word, “I’m not the one driving, for once!”

The offices were mostly empty, or people were packing up to go home. It was late, and many were already gone.

Francis looked at _his_ office, and the lights were still on. Maybe he should check in on him. Make sure Adam was doing alright.

Francis knocked on the door, “Jensen?”

“It’s open, Pritchard.”

Francis opened the door and saw Jensen still buried in paperwork, teeth torturing a thumb, “Catching up on reports _now_?”

“Better late than never, right?”

“Depends on who you ask, we’re the last ones to leave for Christmas.”

Jensen stood, hesitating before he pushed the chair out too and moved to sit on a corner of his desk, “I was wondering, do you have anyone to spend Christmas with?”

“Not really, I normally spend it with Faridah, but she is officially sponsored by Sarif to spend her Christmas with her family,” Francis smiled, trying not to remind himself that it would take years of work until he could do that, “How about you, Adam?”

“No, but I suppose hangover is high on the invitation list, right below whiskey, rum, and beer,” Jensen tried to joke, but his smile faded and a carbon fibre hand caressed an augmented arm, fingers stopping at the rolled-up sleeves of his cardigan.

“Do you need another session before holidays?” Francis offered.

“What do you want as payment this time?” Adam turned his head sideways, but his eyes were glued to the floor by Francis’ feet.

“Some comfort back? If it’s not too much to ask,” The tech shifted his weight from foot to foot, “If it is, then Merry Christmas, Jensen.”

Francis turned to the door again, a knot forming in his stomach, but his mind trying to tell him that he tried. Then anxiety replied, _did you really try?_

Arms wrapped around him for a second to stop him before he reached the closed door to open it. Then Adam’s augmented arms spun him around and grabbed at the back of Francis’ jacket, trying to find a good grip while the bearded jaw came to rest on the collar of said jacket, softly brushing against his ear.

A content sigh escaped Adam and at that Francis dropped his helmet and brought his hands up to return the embrace.

But, like all good things, they pass you by too fast, and Adam let go in time for Francis to relax.

“I have something for you, before you go,” Adam shows the ghost of a tear and a smile before he turns around and tries to discreetly wipe it away as he picks a paper bag up from under his desk, “Merry Christmas, Francis.”

Francis stares at the brown bag, a small red card is tied to one of the handles, taking it from the hands of the aug, “I don’t have anything, I mean, thank you.”

“Go home, I’ll do a last extermination of the mice before I leave.”

Francis watch as Jensen rolls down his sleeves and pulls on his coat.

“Do I need to shoo you away as well?” Jensen asks and gives Francis the hint to leave.

They part ways and Francis arrive at his own place safely, despite the snow. Stubborn as he is, he’s still riding his bike in this weather, even though he has to dry his bike after every day to prevent wear due to the water and salt on the roads.

His apartment is empty of life as he puts his backpack on the floor, the sound of the paper bag reminding him to place it somewhere in view so he remembers to open it the next day. But, not even the mighty control of Francis Pritchard can keep from at least read the little card hanging like a tease on a red ribbon:

_Merry Christmas_

Was all that was written in printed text.

Francis smiled. What had he thought, some romantic rhyme? A personal message? Jensen was really only in it for the touch.

A drink sounded fine, but Francis was too tired to care as he quickly dressed to fall asleep on the couch, again, in front of the TV. For the fourth time this week, and 16th time since those words.

But sleep never came, and the TV was repeating some bad crime-drama series. Francis shut it off and looked at the time slowly ticking past 2am.

It was technically Christmas, Francis amused himself with the thought and made his way to the brown bag, sticking his hand in to pull out a small package wrapped in red paper decorated with golden triangles, a golden ribbon on the front.

No card or sticker on the package, Francis thought as he began picking at the lonely piece of tape on the back. It had been held together with one piece of tape, packaged by a store clerk, Francis noted.

Inside was an aluminium box with a clasp on the front. Francis, not quite so gracefully, opened the box to reveal a silver chain bracelet, the middle link was a larger triangle compared to the other more rectangular links.

The tech dove into the bag and found a white card with Jensen’s handwriting on it. Three words were neatly scribbled on the front:

_I love you._

Then the back said:

_P.S. I meant it, Francis.  
From, Adam._

Francis could barely read the last line before he threw on his gear and headed out, the small present stuffed into his pocket as he tried to reach Jensen’s Infolink, but the other agent wouldn’t answer.

His bike came to a skidding stop at the entrance to the building where Adam’s apartment was. He barely remembered to lock it before he walked inside, pulling the box out in the elevator and putting the bracelet around his wrist, the same wrist Adam had bruised. Now healed, but the memory was still there.

As the elevator ascended floor by floor, Francis couldn’t help but fiddle with the chain, spinning it around his wrist until the ding notified him of his arrival, and he almost ran up to the door, knocking multiple times before he heard heavy steps inside and the lock opening the door.

Jensen stood in his underwear and a t-shirt Francis could recognize, but that wasn’t as important now.

“It’s in the middle of the night, Pritchard, people are aslee—"

Francis interrupted and stepped inside, pushing the door closed with a boot and dropping his helmet for the second time today. He held his wrist up, “Why would you do that?”

“Merry Christmas…?” Jensen asked, eyes still full of sleepy fog.

“What about the note?!” Francis practically shouted before regaining some control, “What do you expect me to do?”

Jensen stared, he was slowly being backed up against the wall, speechless, watching those blue eyes shift between anger and irritation, confused, and sadness.

“Do you understand what this has been doing to me, and I was just thinking I should give up on you,” The tech put his hands against the wall, one on each side of Adam’s arms, “You can’t just half-heartedly mumble those words while pretending to be asleep…”

Adam moved, but Francis continued to criticize his actions so far, stopping him.

“I thought you were the one who needed help, then you made me realize I need the same thing,” Francis’ hands move inwards until they touch augmented arms, moving inside the sleeves slowly, waiting for Adam to make a move for him to stop. But the other just stands still, “Say something, you dumb… dumb.”

“What is it you need?”

Francis paused and thought about it. Only after mentally kicking his logic’s ass he answered, “You,” Francis leaned his body against Adam’s, hands snuck behind Adam’s back to pull him into a warm embrace.

Adam’s arms quickly found their way around Francis’ waist. His jaw rested easily on Francis’ shoulder, beard tickling the other’s ear as he sighed with released stress. The augmented hands began roaming up and down until they slipped inside the clothing Francis wore, his t-shirt was pushed up and off Francis’ body and revealed pale skin, smooth. Blessed by the absence of scars, yet perfectly imperfect with freckles covering his shoulders.

Francis let his hands trace the outline of tense muscles through Adam’s t-shirt. He breathed in Adam’s smell surrounding him, this sudden realization had him wanting for anything Adam would give him, and he could feel Adam had been feeling like this for a while longer than him. The hands were hungrily searching for unexplored skin.

“Do you want to move?” Francis asked, almost shy at the question, hiding his blush in the crook of Adam’s neck. He felt Adam chuckle more than he heard it, his heart beating in his ears.

“Are you sure?” Adam asked, momentarily backing off in control to look at Francis.

Francis attempted to keep his face glued to Adam, but Adam refused to let him answer without eye contact, “I’ve never- I have but it was a long time ago…” The green eyes observed him.

“I don’t mind either way, we can do this your way,” Adam leaned forward, lips ghosting across Francis’ forehead, “I just… need _your_ touch.”

Francis lost it at the tone, the emphasis on the words, and took Adam’s lower lip between his teeth before locking them in a hungry kiss. And the moan Adam let out surely held a lot of tension, released, as he almost toppled them over when he lost his balance.

“Francis…” Adam breathed. He stepped forward with one leg, firmly taking his ground this time with his thigh pressed against Francis’ groin. The heat meeting the augmented leg sparked a new fire in Adam.

“Shut it,” The tech hissed at the pressure against himself as he felt his pants visibly tent between them. Adam’s hands still roamed his waist, holding him impossibly close. But the pressure didn’t grow or fade against him, not even as Adam’s tongue hinted at their actions to move forward in this sporadic encounter of confessions.

Francis didn’t hesitate to meet the tongue prodding at his lips with an equally hungry wet muscle, needing to explore whatever it could reach in their locked position in each other’s arms, and this time Adam did move, pushing with his whole body for Francis to walk backwards, blindly led by him.

They moved to the bedroom and stood by the foot of the bed, not quite yet satisfied by the short time they’d had. Not ready to break the rhythm of touching, feeling, and hearing the other’s sounds of appreciation.

But the need to take a breather gave them a chance to speak before they moved on, and the oxygen filling Francis’ lungs was more than welcomed. He watched Adam breathe fairly calmly, only the lust caused the taller to take long and deep breaths, and Francis reminded himself of Adam’s more internal augments.

Francis pulled away a hand from Adam’s back to trace the black metal framing the other’s left eye, “Any other augments I need to know about?”

Adam smiled, despite the mood of the situation and let the banter resume, “You just have to find out if you’re so _curious_ , Pritchard.”

Francis groaned as his erection was making itself known and needing attention at those words, turned them around and pushed them both onto the bed, naturally breaking their hold of the other and Adam quickly moving to sit higher up.

“Take it off,” Francis moved after Adam, his own socks were quickly thrown on the floor and were joined by Adam’s t-shirt. He hovered over the man, “Everything.”

A chuckle escaped the agent, a quick inhale of air as he felt fingers run along scarred tissue where flesh met augment beneath the elastic of his boxers. They tugged down the clothing and Adam raised his hips to let them be thrown in the pile of clothing they had created.

The moan escaping Adam, the groan when he opened his mouth to breathe, and the curse when Francis took the aug’s erection in his hand and stroked it in the same movement did something to the tech, “I want to have you… around me, Adam,” Francis whispered into Adam’s ear, his tongue revealing itself again to move along the ridge of an ear.

“Bite me!” Adam exclaimed, turning his head to give Francis full access to whatever he had begged for.

The two of them fell into silence, everything stopping to a screeching halt at the loud words.

Then their eyes met. Adam’s were black, like the last time Francis had been here and upset the aug, and Francis finally understood the deep lust raging in Adam. The need to feel someone else’s touch. And the need to feel the sting of his flesh being hurt, but not drawing blood, the injury he needed on his own terms.

Francis felt himself fall into the same degree of need when he understood what Adam was begging from him, and giving him. The trust in this moment, the mutual understanding, and the need for it all to connect in this moment. Francis tipped over an edge he had never seen in front of him. He was needed.

“I’m going to make you feel,” Francis leaned forward and gently held Adam’s ear nib between his teeth, increasing the pressure in his jaw until the other groaned, then stopped and held it.

Adam’s hand nudged one of Francis’ arms, moving it until the other caught the hint to stroke his cock again, resuming the needed friction. His other hand tried to move to pull the tech’s pants down, but the distance to them suddenly grew when Francis let go of his ear and moved further down.

Teeth grazed the small metal tube in one of the neck muscles, biting at the following collar bone.

“Fra-aah-ncis!” Adam groaned, and his lungs demanded air when Francis’ free hand began playing with the opposite nipple, giving it a gentler treatment then the one held between Francis’ teeth. The hand between his legs released his cock, leaving it to twitch with urgency against his abdomen.

Francis smiled when he felt Adam’s reaction to the things thrown at him, the cock emitted heat that reached his chest without touching. He backed off and blew cold air at the now wet flesh his teeth had coloured so beautifully, earning him another sound of pleasure. He watched the other’s chest expand and contract with each breath. He let his hand on the chest trail down the middle of sculpted abs, the crevice leading down to where a trail of hair would’ve been present if the dermal armour didn’t prevent hair growth.

Adam was left hanging for a while, and only when he made a move to see why did he notice he had closed his eyes. He opened them and met blue orbs watching him. Then they disappeared as Francis ducked down way too low, and he felt the hot mouth take his already longing erection half-way, “Fuck!”

Francis pulled off from Adam, the salty taste of precum still lingering on his tongue, “You didn’t like it?” He asked, worried he had done something wrong, taken the wrong direction.

“Give a man some warning,” Adam cursed, almost feeling as if he was coming down from a high, “Don’t stop now… Weren’t you going to make me feel _alive_?”

Francis huffed and did the exact same thing again, ducked down low. He would show Adam _alive_. He opened his mouth again and let the erection slide in, his tongue moving along the shaft. His mind processed, but ignored, the groans of protesting coming from the other man, if Adam really didn’t like it, he had more strength than necessary to stop him. Francis almost pulled off to have the opportunity to test the sensitivity of the other man, his tongue lapped at the edge of the head. Following the frenulum on the underside of the cock caused the other to thrust, weakly, into Francis’ mouth.

“Stop teasing,” Adam growled, but carbon fibre hand moved to the backside of Francis’ head and encouraged the tech to proceed, “Do something…”

Francis was relieved he was not the only one who just went with the flow, the meaningless words from Adam meant nothing, but the actions told him to continue. Told him it was good so far. And he would make it better, Francis thought as he released the erection from his lips with a muffled pop and traced the veins down to the smooth balls, giving them a very gentle nibble before moving further, pushing the augmented legs apart to spit with precision at the puckered hole.

Adam felt the spark of sensations run wild in his nervous system, and then all accumulate in his mind with fierce sensations when he felt Francis push inside with a finger. It slid further in before it let Adam get accustomed to the feeling, the welcome trespassing of a second digit burned with a flame licking a place so teasingly inside him, “Ah, deeper,” Adam moaned, raising his hips to give more access for Francis to do so.

“Don’t worry, I know,” Francis let a smirk ghost over his face as he watched the need in Adam’s every movement. The squirming body in front of him never stayed still for a moment, moving to get the intense rush of pleasure when the spot was pushed. So, Francis granted the wish, turned his hand palm up and hooked the two fingers inside. Adam stilled his movements, and his mouth opened wordlessly, a long groan stuttered by the grinding of his teeth.

Adam’s jaw itched, tensed uncomfortably, his teeth grinding against the opposite side. His hand moved subconsciously and he bit down on his own thumb. A whine loudly echoing in the otherwise silent room when the fingers repeated the movement.

Francis watched as Adam began unfolding his tightly wound up desires. Craving his touch. He looked down and saw the precum beading at the tip of his penis and caught it with a finger, “Open your mouth, Adam,” And the other did for Francis, who slipped a finger inside, wiping it across Adam’s tongue. The jaw tensed at the realization and held Francis’ finger there, a tongue quickly running down the length of his finger.

Adam couldn’t wait, at this rate he would cum before they had started. He needed more of Francis. He needed him inside him, “Wait,” Adam sat up, releasing Francis who pulled his fingers back, and dug into the bottom drawer of the nightstand beside the bed.

“So, this is why you’re late to work?” Francis commented on the items Adam pulled out, a condom and lube, but wrote a mental note to ask what was in the silken black pouch when the time came to do so.

“Very funny,” Adam responded, “But if you don’t get on with it, I’ll do you.”

Francis’ reacted to that with a wave of images rolling through his head, his own cock craving attention. He took the items from Adam, who laid down again, a black hand running up his side, the other stroking himself as Francis didn’t waste any time pushing his pants down to his knees, rolling the condom on with a needy hiss, and slicking it with a messy amount of lube with would surely stain the sheets.

Adam was shocked to shout when Francis hoisted one of his legs up on a shoulder and entered him, and almost regretted not waiting for a third finger earlier. He really didn’t believe the other would be this big, but the burn was at the same time just what he needed. Another time, when the desire wasn’t as ravaging and the lack of touch was less present, maybe they could enjoy it more.

Now, however, Francis stopped almost sheathed to the base in Adam. The heavy weight of the augment resting on his shoulder was forgotten and endured in favour of pulling back and slowly pushing in again. He repeated the movement several times, each cycle pushing the volume of Adam’s sounds up a notch. The gruff shouts turned to stuttered whimpers when Francis thrusted less deep, seeking to hit that spot of sweet nerves.

Adam still held his own cock in his hand, trying not to cum yet, but the shock of pleasure from Francis’ successful thrust against the bundle of nerves made it hard not to just release it and ride the wave of orgasm. His jaw clenched uncomfortably again.

Francis saw Adam’s brow crease, and let his free arm, which had until now been holding the other’s hip, reach out to touch that face, trace the lines in Adam’s face. It was rough, but Francis couldn’t imagine it being anything but just that, yet the feeling of each bump and flaw felt right. Francis stared, and the thrusting became second to observing Adam’s reaction when his fingers ghosted across those chapped lips.

His mind barely registered the prodding at his lips, Adam was focused on other things, but when fingers pushed between his lips, he relaxed his jaw to let them in. A soft moan from Francis joined his own whine, both breathless by this point. Adam swirled his tongue around the digit and coated it in saliva. Then Francis thrusted deeper and groaned as his rhythm stuttered.

“Adam…” Francis grunted with his next thrust. He withdrew his hand to resume its position on the hip, pulling Adam up slightly more and letting down the leg from his shoulder, gaining the perfect angle to thrust hard into Adam’s sweet spot with new energy.

“Francis, I can’t,” The new position didn’t allow Adam to hold himself, his cock bobbing between them, leaking more precum which stuck to his abdomen and pulled strands of translucent strings. Adam watched himself, watched Francis. The wet sound of their actions blended in with their vocalisations of the pleasure that overwhelmed them, “I’m going, fuck, harder!”

Francis’ mind replayed the exclamation from before, _bite me_ , when Adam closed his eyes, and swiftly leaned forward to taste the salty flesh, locking his jaw as he found the mindset to satisfy Adam’s hunger. He reached between them and began pumping Adam’s free cock, no rhythm was possible, but it only took two strokes for Adam’s eyes to roll back in his skull and a beast-like cry tore from his throat, followed by several more cries of ecstasy as ropes of white covered their stomachs and chests.

Francis’ jaw locked onto the skin between his teeth just like Adam clenched hard around his cock. It became almost painful to move, but the need to cum was greater than the want to escape the pain. So, Francis kept pounding until the pooling heat in his groin ignited and an equally beastly cry made its way through his teeth. His jaw tensed and relaxed in time with the spasms of his cock buried deep in Adam. His teeth grazed the skin of Adam’s abs and over the angry mark he left.

They stayed for a while, breathing together as they came down from the high of orgasm.

“You’re the loudest bastard I’ve had the joy of taking,” Francis began, “And the only.”

Adam backed up, moaning in post-orgasm sensations as Francis slid out of him, “Maybe I will be late for work, especially if this becomes regular.”

The two men, green and blue eyes meeting, smiled, “Is that an invitation?”

“Maybe it is.”

“I’d like my payment to be a long shower, for the third session, and final,” Francis joked and carefully pulled the condom off, tying it off and dropping it on the floor, “Would you like to join me, Adam?”

“With pleasure, Wendell.”

That earned him a pinch in the side, “Never ever say that, or I’ll have you crying at the end.”

“Sounds interesting, what did you have in mind?” Adam smiled as he threw his legs over the side of the bed, pulling Francis up with him.

“Whatever is in that black silk pouch is probably fitting,” Francis pulled Adam close despite Adam’s sticky mess they were covered in.

Adam smiled and they moved towards the bathroom, “Just some handcuffs and other shady toys.”

“That’ll be suitable for what I have in mind.”

“Deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> The note from Adam was of course based on Last Christmas by WHAM, haha... I love that song.
> 
> Next year, I'll post the continuation. And it will involve the black silky pouch. Yes... Myes.


End file.
